


Now That I Found You (Stay)

by MyThylaMyCaptain



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Power Play, Rape Fantasy, d/s dynamics, more to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4267461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyThylaMyCaptain/pseuds/MyThylaMyCaptain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, the date was irrelevant -- an infinite number of happenstances occur at any given time or place, yet few things are ever deemed worthy enough for a memory prolonged to the ages. The mundane is hardly kept for record for all to bear claim to, but it happened none the less. Were it not for written text, the majority of history would be lost to the grave in which the bearers of both action and witness were laid to rest.  Private moments are often replaced with the silence of a similar outcome. </p><p>It was irrelevant, perhaps, but Steve remembered it never the less.</p><p>Or</p><p>Also known as 'snippets where Bucky and Steve explore their relationship and have a lot of super kinky sex through the ages'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now That I Found You (Stay)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coffeestainanalyst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeestainanalyst/gifts).



> I haven't written a fic in over two years. I sure as hell hope it doesn't show.  
> Written for the amazing coffeestainanalyst - may I finally stop stalking your blog and feel free to post from you, you beautiful creature. I hope you like this. More to come.

"Fuck, it's hot."

Steve Rogers had been subjected to the same, circulating subject for nearly the entirety of their walk, the broken path hazed by the intensity of the heat and clouded with similar complaints by everyone they passed. Of course the blonde had heard every variation of these words by Bucky alone, beginning with the benign, _'Man, it's hot out here'_ and escalating to the uncensored, _'Jesus fucking Christ, Steve, remind me why you're dragging our sorry asses through the pits of hell again.'_

"Oi, don't be a wuss, Barnes. You don't hear me complaining, and I'm a hell of a lot worse off than your sorry ass." It was true; at barely five foot he was an almost comical opposite to Bucky's broad-chested stature, which still retained a level of charm through the furnace they treaded while Steve, in comparison, looked akin to a cat nearly drowned in its own sweat. His features pinched in faint annoyance but softened soon after - it wasn't James' fault, after all. Wasn't anyone's fault he knew, but that didn't exempt him from the mild jealousy that was true to be forged towards anyone born with the ability to fucking _breathe_ the way they were supposed to. "Besides, I thought you liked the Brooklyn Bridge." Bucky groaned.

"Yeah, but I can see the bridge any damn day I want. Couldn't we have waited 'til later tonight to do this?"

"The recruitment office in Manhattan closes at five. I couldn't get off work any earlier than now." He wiped his hair back into a manageable position, dampened by the sweat of his brow. "You didn't have to follow me out anyways. If I had known you were going to complain this much-"

"Hey, hey. Take it easy will you? I was just kiddin'. No need to have a fit."

"Yeah, whatever you say."

They walked in silence, the point of contention drawing thinly between the pair as they broke into the outer limits of the city. It was the same, unspoken debate that strained their hardened relationship everytime another draftee was given their conscription notice in the slums in which they lived, or in every new uniform they passed on the block. Ever since the branch in Brooklyn laughed him out of the office only a month after America's initial entrance into the war, screaming they were desperate for able bodied men (Steve always curiously ignored the latter), Bucky knew Steve would be clawing to prove the boys down at the office wrong - that his will and commitment alone outweighed the happenstance of his body. He had seen their faces, Steve's too, and it was only a matter of time until he tried again.

It wasn't until they were a solid block passed the docks when the brunette broke their silence.

"You don't have to do this to prove anything, you know. Besides, what're you gonna do -- lie on the enlistment forms? Not only will they turn you down flat, you could be hauled off til God knows when." Steve grunted a dry, _'Thanks for the support'_ , before sighing in return.

"Leave it, Buck. I don't need to hear this now." His tone turned nervy, a dangerous hush coating his words to which Bucky promptly disregarded.

"But you do. You realize-"

"I told you to shut your trap." His voice cut deep and was laced with a heedful threat in which he knew he couldn't follow through, which only served to tighten his jaw and his teeth to gnash. Bucky returned the favor with his wish, yet the look of piqued anger was not soon to be washed from his features. Some navy dames turned their heads the direction of their argument and the man quelled their interest with a lilted grin and a wink, his head cocking at an alluring angle as he bowed it in a small nod. One of them waved in return while the other, embarrassed by her gawking, preoccupied her attention to the ground as she fixed her snood. Steve, having witnessed the exchange, felt a small burn in his cheeks as he rolled his eyes. “Can’t go twenty damn minutes without doin’ that shit, can you?” Bucky frowned, looking genuinely confused for a moment or two as Steve turned to look back to the concrete.

“Doin’ what?”

“You know very well what, Buck.” He sounded far more bitter than what he intended, causing him to retreat from the brunette with a frown of his own. “You know the dames love that… that thing you do. But let me tell you, it’s annoying as hell. You don’t have to woo every damn person you pass.” A sigh of exasperation resounded to his left flank.

“You think too much on it, Stevie. You just… don’t get it, ‘cause you’re a fella.” Steve scoffed. “Hey, it doesn’t work on the ones I really want anyhow, so I have to use it when I can. It’d be a damn shame to waste my charm just because it doesn’t land me the right ones.” Bucky laughed softly, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he scuffed the bottoms of his shoes down the way. Steve’s chest contracted faintly at the sound, and for a moment he forgot what exactly he was upset about.

“Yeah, well… Could you knock it off? It’s too hot to bat away flocks of dames askin’ for a dance at this time’a day.” The pity was that he’d be right there beside them, were things different. That thought alone made him ill, and he completely missed James’ witty repose of ‘ _But keep the blondes’_ to which he pointed out with a feeble, “At least I thought it was funny…” Steve sighed, pausing for a moment to finally walk at James’ side.

“Hey, Buck… Buck, I’m sorry, alright? It’s just… It’s the heat. It’s getting to me a bit is all, I don’t mean to be crass.” Bucky raised his shoulders a degree or two, closing his eyes for a beat before clicking his tongue.

“Yeah… I know Steve, I don’t take no offense, alright?” He knocked against his shoulder with a light tap, a cautious smile etching across his features before breaking into a full-featured grin once Steve reciprocated. “Besides, good things can come out of the heat. Like the fact that I scraped together a couple of cents for a shared Coke.” He withdrew his right hand from his trousers to expose the nickel. Steve cocked a brow.

“I ain’t about to take your money for a bribe to quit my bitching.”

“Talk for yourself. I was gonna buy it anyway to stop **my** bitching. It’d just be rude to drink it in front of you.”

“I don’t want to be late-“

“You’re _sharing_ a fucking Coke with me.”

And that was the end of it. Neither made any further protest as they passed by the working shantytowns that still stunk of the commercial fishermen who lurked there, eyes crossed to the ground as they followed their shadows. The nearest mercantile was on the edge of the living complexes and the start of the business district, several window fronts boarded up since the exit of its Japanese owners and those who refused to occupy a place where they once resided. The pair passed by with as equal reserve as they would the cemetery, unwilling to take up that particular discussion for the afternoon. They remained somber as they turned the corner, their destination announced just a few feet in by a shop sign swaying with a small creak above the shop entryway.

Exiting the mercantile a few minutes later they returned to their previous route, passing the cool cola between them as the glass already started to sweat beneath the haze of the sun. The temporary relief reinvigorated their step and it wasn’t long afterwards that the enlistment building came into view, its banners of entry beckoning the pair invitingly. Bucky clutched the bottle in his right fist, his thumb trailing over the raised letters of the logo as he watched Steve’s demeanor change from heat-worn exhaustion to straight backed determination. Looking from the blonde to the looming pillars of the office he swallowed, reaching out to catch the crook of Steve’s arm. His steeled reverie shattered, the slighter man turned back to the other with a dark knit to his brow.

“What the hell-“

“Come on, Steve. You shouldn’t be doing this. What if you’re caught? What then? You’re gonna get your ass thrown in jail and I won’t have enough money to bail you out.” There was the further reservation there, the words always lingering but never spoken but blatant all the same. Steve wrenched his arm from Bucky’s hold with a snarl upon his lips. Bucky remained, taken aback but refusing to retreat, even as the blonde pushed uselessly at his chest.

“Screw off, Barnes. You lied on your forms too –don’t try to act like you’re the fucking poster boy for perfect morality.” Their voices lowered to stage whispers as to refrain from going through with the actual thing

“That’s different.”

“Yeah, course it is.” Steve turned from Bucky’s darkening features, fists clenched at his sides as his shoulders drew taut in his fury. “I want to fucking fight for my country, Buck. I should have the right to do it, as good as any other fella out here. I’m not about to stockpile in bomb shelters and scavenge for scrap metal like some sort of coward while a bunch of our boys get gunned down by brown coats and Nazi’s.”

“What the fuck is so fucking important for you to go, huh? What are you trying to prove, huh? Who the hell are you trying to im ** _\- Steve!_** ” The brunette was left on the street as Steve charged his way within the building, losing his temper as he threw his bottle down the adjacent lane, suffocating its shattering sound with a thunder of frustration from his chest.

For a while he contemplated going home without him, secluding him to his spite, but he knew that leaving Steve alone in his anger was a calling card for trouble. So there he stood beneath the canopy of the entryway, allowing his scowl to mar his features as he waited his turn. He nodded to those who passed, avoiding the eye of those who entered and turned his back to the jeering sign of Uncle Sam, pointing him out with an extended digit and burning holes in the back of his head with those hollow eyes.

It felt like an eternity until Steve found himself back onto the street, almost completely missing Bucky’s form all but melting into the wall. He paused, two men splitting and walking around him before disappearing into the brick structure behind him as he simply exchanged a fleeting glance with the brunette, who pushed himself off from the side of the building and closer to oscillate to Steve’s right. Neither said a word as they began their journey home. The silence drew deafening the longer they walked and the darker it became, and it wasn’t until they were on Brooklyn turf again that Steve finally broke the silence.

“At least they didn’t laugh me out of the office this time.”

Steve could feel Bucky’s lingering gaze but refused to match it, watching as a caravan of Fords sped down the road, as if the drivers were worried someone would steal the tires off the cars while they were still moving if they slowed too much. He watched them take a sharp left at the mercantile where Bucky worked, keeping the place presentable and getting the employee discounts that aided in keeping food in their bellies. He thought back to his own meager wage as a paper boy, and decided that he’d need to draw more of those anonymous risqués to really pull his weight on his portion of the rent. At least someone always wanted something from him there.

“Well, there wasn’t anything to laugh at, so I guess that’s the only right response.” Steve laughed bitterly, looking behind him with a shrouded expression before passing by the shoe shiners at the corner. He nodded a curt hello to them as they passed, and the brunette mirrored the action before turning his attention back to Steve as he continued. “Got all those lovely jeers about my handsome physique, so I guess that made up for it.”

“Screw those guys, Steve. They’re just a bunch of punks and assholes that have nothing better to do with their time than to rag on fellas they don’t even know. ” There was a defensive, cutting edge to his tone, and Steve made it a point to look behind him and offer a smile.

“I don’t give a damn what they have to say, Buck. You know I don’t. The only one I give a shit about is the fella with the stamp, and I’m bound and determined to sway his judgement.” He didn’t care how far out he’d have to go –he was going to find someone to take him even if it killed him. He could almost feel the other’s demeanor turn cold at his flank, and he steeled him for the conversation to come.

"Come on, Steve. It doesn't matter what they think -- just because they won't take you doesn't make you any less of a man. I me-"

“Oh Christ. Not this again…”

“Yes. Yes, this again.” Bucky strode to his side, motions wide as he waved his hands in his annoyance. “Steve, one of these days someone is gonna catch you, even worse if they actually enlist you-“

“I don’t need to hear this-“

“Oh, no? Fine. Fine. If you want to rot in jail over some damn card, or let your fucking death mean nothing more than a number on a piece of paper go the fuck ahead. But you don’t need to be pushing so hard out of some twisted ideal of being a man-“

"That's real slick, comin' from a fella like you." Steve's voice was clipped with anger, his body battling between the modes of high-shouldered embarrassment and the puffing of his frail chest in an attempt to regain any semblance of his broken pride. “And enlistment forms? Do you really want to fuck with me over lying on your documents, Buck? III-A, give me a fucking break. Becca doesn’t even live with you anymore!”

“It’s no place for her to be raised, Steve. “

“Why not? We were.”

“If I can fucking give her better, why the fuck shouldn’t I?” Their voices were raised now, shouting matches in the middle of the run down knocks of Brooklyn an every night occurrence. It was simply their turn to do the screaming. “Why’re you always trying to make it about me, huh? We’re talking about you right now, and you’re always trying to set me out as some sort of criminal.”

“The right word you’re going for is coward.”

It wasn’t until he was several yards down the block that he realized that the other had stopped all those paces back, turning back with adrenaline high in his veins and rage singeing his bones to ashes. “What, don’t like someone pointing out the obvious Buck? That I won’t fawn over James Buchannan Barnes like everyone else? That your fucking charms get you jack squat with me because at the core of it all you’re running around scared-“

“Fucking brave of you to say out of swingin’distance, Steve. Want to act like such a fucking big man, do you? Come over here and say that to my fucking face.” Bucky’s voice was eerily calm despite the explicates painting his speech, Steve’s sight leaving James’ visage as nothing more than a shadow in the darkening hours. Against every better judgement clawing at him to ignore the taunt the shorter man found himself traveling down the path and standing before his friend, eyes narrowed and his fists trembling as they ached for contact.

“I called you a God damned coward, you sorry son of a bitch. What the hell are you-“

Steve had been expecting it, of course, but it was still a shock when he was nearly yanked off of his feet and towards the their makeshift ring –the brick alley was a dead end, the site of many other points of violence before tonight. Steve had gotten a concussion here after a brute slammed him into the wall after having called him out in his unwanted gawking towards one of the women walking down the way. Now it only seemed fitting that he was getting pulled into the backstreet by someone he fancied, his best fucking friend no less.

Neither held back in their blows – they **were** Brooklyn boys, after all. It just so happened that, while Steve’s tactic was ‘hit and see what sticks’, Bucky took the more defensive approach, blocking attacks more often than allowing his punches to catch. That only drew Steve to further anger, his hits drawing faster but becoming uncoordinated in his blind aggression. It was when his breath began to wheeze that he took inventory of his injuries, and he nearly laughed at the bruises he’d be wearing as medals in the morning. His gloating thoughts diminished some when he felt a knuckle crack against his cheek, making him fall back into the unit behind him for support as he saw a flicker of stars over his vision. When his gaze came into focus he was nose to nose with six feet of pure unadulterated fury, a cold spike of fear coursing through his heart as he felt himself waiting for the impending final blow.

It never came.

As the high of combat was sobered by a single thread of clarity it was only then, fists clenched in one another's shirts and threatening to tear the cheap fabric, that they both took an account of their proximity. For a moment all that passed between them were panting breaths and locking eyes that seemed to have drawn out of focus and onto one another in a cautious stare –boats treading into dangerous waters and docking at a port not yet determined to be friend or foe. The tension drew taut and it was only then that Steve realized he wasn't breathing.

He was the first to blink, sucking in a short gasp as Bucky's musk hit him like another sling to the jaw, instinctively gripping him closer instead of pressing him away as every bible thumper had preached since the day he was born. His common sense seemed so very far from him in that moment, as if screaming from the bottom of a core-bound well -- a constant reminder of the many sins he had suppressed anytime James drew so daringly close, yet far enough away that he could almost imagine its spews of hell - bound damnation to fallacy. When Bucky finally moved - a subtle parting of his lips - the blonde was already shifting, raising to his toes as he nosed at the other's clean-shaven jaw, the scent of his cheap aftershave still clinging to his flesh below the salty tang of his sweat. There was a sudden, indomitable need to taste him, to see if his allure was true, that caused his tongue to flicker out and do just that, wetting at the square of his jaw with a groan. His eyes flickered shut in momentary contemplation.

"Steve..."

Oh God.

And just like that the trance was shattered, thin digits pushing Bucky away with whatever power he possessed before flattening out against the brick behind him as if to reaffirm how indubitably trapped he was. As his gaze snapped open his peripheral sensory reappeared in clarity for a sudden, sobering shock, the pain from the brunette's blows stinging far deeper than his pride and the hellish temperatures returning to lick at his skin. What the hell did he think – what had he done? Ice water flooded his veins and his thoughts scrambled . He didn't dare look him in the eye and Steve did the one thing he tried never to do.

He nearly tripped over himself as he turned to sprint down the alleyway, his heart hammering in his chest like every blow he’d ever received trying to beat its way from his ribs, stealing the breath from him in a fitful betrayal. Dread spread through his system as he felt a firm hand clap over his shoulder and claw at the fabric of his shirt, whirling him around with a senseless ease before both sides of him were secure beneath his touch. He couldn’t hear the words Bucky tried to shout over the roar of hisown pulse, having been in this position a number of times before to guess, and he felt immediately ill; he couldn’t stand to hear that sort of hate drip from Bucky’s tongue. Not Bucky. Anyone else he could pretend that he had looked at them cross resulting in his shiner and not because he had been on his knees only moments earlier and his bruises had been a result as a persuasion tactic to keep him quiet. He could pretend that none of them mattered because to him, they didn’t.

But he couldn’t fathom a world without Bucky Barnes at his side. Bucky, who chose to befriend him regardless of the initial ridicule he received. Bucky, whom had stuck at his bedside whenever he drew too ill to stand, whom read to him and kept him company even through his fever-ridden hazes. Bucky, the only one who gave a damn about Steven Grant Rogers after his mother passed.

And now he had gone and thrown that all away. Men had beaten him for less.

It was only after a moment or two that he realized he was back against the wall once more; eyes bore against his chest in a blurred haze of expectant submission. Any moment now he’d get a wailing, bones cracking beneath powerful punches and punts before one last kick would force him onto his side, waiting until the other made his leave to curl into the demeaning fetal positing 'til he could compose himself enough to call for help. He closed his eyes and paused, the staccato of his pulse climbing into a roaring crescendo in his ear.

Nothing came. Steve frowned.

“Come on and do it already.” If anything else, he could say that his voice never betrayed him in instances like these. “Do your worst, Buck. I’m man enough, I can handle it-” Bucky’s interjecting words sounded waterlogged beneath the thrum of his pulse and Steve grit his teeth, turning his head as his tingling hands balled into fists.He clocked the brunette just right between the ribs, hearing a satisfied wheeze before hot, heavy hands landed at his wrists, spreading them out so that they could do no further damage. He had thought about those hands in every way imaginable, drew them out countless times by pure memory alone. Even now, he thought, he’d have to log these touches for future reminiscence, given if he could remember the ordeal after it all.

“Go on, beat me. Spew your damn hate, see if I care. Stevie’s a little queer, a fucking cock sucker, a fay who’s goin’ straight on down to hell, a damn further disgrace to the nation. Hit me, damn you! Or are you a fucking coward in the face of a-”

“ ** _Steve.”_**

He felt himself being shaken, his head thudding dully against the wall as Bucky’s voice drilled through his personal reverie, his gaze finally flickering to match against the brunette’s to face the revulsion found there.

Except there wasn’t a lick of hatred to be found and in the similar moment their mouths were crashing against one another’s in a sloppy, aggressive kiss.

Their first kiss was neither romantic nor tender as he had always imagined it would be –to hell if any true thought was put into it other than the encompassing need for more; more flesh, more bruises, more _more **more**_. Every pent up desire dropped upon him in an instant, a ton of bricks sliding from his shoulders only to be replaced with the weight of his lust to muddy his thoughts and prove effective in his trousers.

Steve’s eyes blew wide before a moan buzzed on his lips, and it took him a moment to register that the sound hadn’t originated from him. If they weren’t crazed before they certainly were now, nothing but hungry grunts and fleeting groans passing them by as Steve arched for further contact, anything to tether him through the warring emotions in his head. Tugging for control of his hands Bucky was all but content to comply, Steve having risen to his toes for the second time that night alone to better slot their lips. His fingers were a troublesome insistence against the brunette’s shirt front, dragging him down for ease before slithering to clap his hand over his nape to deepen their contact. Bucky on the other hand gripped and tugged wherever his hands lay, attempting to draw him as flush as he could before cupping the blonde’s features beneath his touch.

It was a short time later that Steve had to push him off, the burning nag in his lungs eviscerating any enjoyment from the action as he fought for breath. Bucky retreated immediately as the blonde bent over with a gagging cough, gasping in near hyperventilating greed as he danced on the knive’s edge of an asthma attack. He gripped at his chest as he felt the ache of warning constriction, the brunette’s hand pressing against the low of his back before reminding him to try and put his arms above his head. It was by the grace of God that his body finally cooperated after nearly ten minutes of coaxing, the throb continuing on even as he properly came to.

It was only then that he finally turned to Bucky, smirking feebly in the shadow of the alley. He frowned at the horror he found on the man’s features before straightening slightly with a rasping laugh. “Well, at least I can finally say your kiss takes my breath away.” The comical expression his features rearranged to nearly made him laugh.

“That’s… this… This isn’t fucking funny, Steve!” That only served to turn his smirk into a shit-eating grin.

“Come on…” He coughed a small fit, calming after a moment before resuming. “You act as though this is the worst thing that could ever happen to me.”

“You could have died, Steve.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t, so there’s no need to worry about it now. To be honest I’ve got better things on my mind.”

Bucky blinked, looked down to where Steve’s line of sight followed before coloring darkly in the shade. It couldn’t be seen in the shadows, but they both knew it to be there. “You can’t… You can’t be fucking serious…”

“What can I say? Sometimes I like gettin’ hit if it means I get a nice kiss afterwards.”

“You know that’s not what I’m-“

“I don’t know what you’re whining about anyways.” Steve swallowed down the haze in his throat, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss against Bucky’s jaw. In a similar motion his hands darted between them, cupping at his tenting trousers and causing the man to instinctively draw away as if to give himself room to think. Steve granted him no such mercy, his free touch fisting in the front of his shirt to keep him near as he purred against the juncture of his jaw, “You’re just as bad as me.”

“I didn’t – it wasn’t -“

“Come on, Buck, don’t be acting like some blushing virgin all of a sudden.” James grunted in mild irritation as he pushed him back a fair ways. Steve opened his mouth in firm protest before silencing him with an interjection.

“I’m not exactly one for exhibitionism. If we’re gonna do this, it sure as hell better be at home.” Steve looked up to him before flashing a small, lewd grin.

“It’s like you read my mind.”

-

The warmth of the day lingered like a fog in the apartments of Brooklyn’s slums, so when both Steve and Bucky all but fell into the foyer of Steve’s place of stay they were swift to realize it was little better than the atmosphere they left behind. Perhaps if they had a mind to, they’d complain. But really, all it gave them was a better excuse to strip to their knickers right there in the hallway, leaving a slew of discarded cloth and shoes in their wake as they all but wrestled one another into the bedroom.

The breath between them turned intimate, subtle, and their touches laxed from their frantic pulls to something of a stalemate -- an impasse. Steve knew that this should be the moment when he slid to his knees to work Bucky from his undergarment, feeling out whether he rathered his lovers demure or impatient as he conformed to his knees. He couldn’t fuck this up, not now –not to Bucky. If anyone deserved whatever he wanted it was the fella looking down to him as if he were the most desirable bastard on earth. So when the brunette met his eye Steve’s stance was ready to buckle, deft fingers mapping over the solid coils of the man’s arms, muscles slithering beneath his flesh like a serpent lurking just beneath the crest of placid waters.

That was, at least, until Bucky beat him to the punch.

Instinct caused his jaw to drop as the man hit the floor, fingers lithely maneuvering and hooking against his ribs, staggering and prominent against his heaving breath. The lips that had just attacked hisown were now traversing down his frail chest, mouthing hotly against the peak of his roused nipples before allowing his teeth to scrape against the bundle of nerves. It was somewhere between then and the expert flick of his tongue that his head hazed into a jumble of half-formed thoughts and subconscious action. It wasn’t until he heard James chuckle, having sucked a dark mark against the flesh below his naval and a firm hand cupping the tent of his crotch, that he sobered enough to realize his hips were canting forward against the pressure of his touch. The words came out of his mouth in a clutter, muttered before he had the proper time to piece them with the tone he intended. But really, how could he be expected to form a coherent thought when Bucky was smiling up to him like **_that_** with eyes like **_those_**?

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

The flash of his teeth evaporated if only to hide beneath the southern tug of his lips, Bucky’s touch retreating in the faintest as his brows knitted together in confusion. “Look, Steve, I’m sorry, I-” Wait no, that was… That was worry. Why the hell was Bucky… Couldn’t he see that… It was only then that proper thought caught up to him and his hand shot out, thin fingers gripping against the crop of his dark locks to force his head back. Those familiar eyes seemed so foreign in that moment, the color swallowed beneath the dark of his pupils as an equally alien sound bubbled from his chest to drip from his tongue.

Bucky moaned his name.

His grip tightened.

“Please…”

“Why… Why’re you on your knees, Buck?”

“Why the else would I be?” The confusion was unmistakable this time, mirrored only to Steve’s. An uncomfortable laugh bubbled from the blonde’s lips which caused the brunette’s features to shadow.

“That’s usually… I usually…” Recognition flickered across the Bucky’s lineaments before he found his head bowed, twisting in the blonde’s grasp as he hummed in stiff embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I thought that you’d-”

“I’ve never been given the option.”

There was silence drawn tight between them, weighing the air as Steve avoided his speculative gaze. Bucky, in turn, gently eased his touch back to his waist as he dared a chaste kiss against the juncture of his hip, nudging against the loosening hold on his hair in an attempt to restore its prior urgency.

“You mean… No one’s ever-”

“Do I exactly look like the kind of fella who gets his cock sucked by ladies, Buck? Let alone a gent. Christ, the main reason the majority of them who get me on my knees only do it because it’s fucking easier to imagine it’s a dame and not...” Came the short reply, the flush coloring his flesh battling between shame and embarrassment as he forced the wavering bite from threatening to crack his tone. “I’ve only been on my stomach when they get the inclination for more than a throat. So no. Most of the time they don’t even stick around to finish me off, alright? There. You ha-”

“You’re more than a man than any of those fellas were, Steve. Don’t be thinkin’ I’m doing this out of fucking charity—hey look at me, will ya?” The grip on his bones rattled him to the core, his voice a soft plea that insisted the tilt of his head. “Look, I’ve… I’ve never done this before. Suck a fella off, I mean. No one’s really safe enough to experiment, and anyone I’ve offered to either thinks it’s a joke or I’m trying to set them up. But I ain’t tryin’ to set no one up. I’m just not… I don’t…”

“You feel like being the pitcher’s the wrong position for you to play, but everyone else thinks that’s the only slot for you?” Their gazes finally met, two boats finally making it to safe waters. Bucky’s bottom lip quivered before Steve’s hand slid from his hair, cupping at the back of his head as the brunette finally allowed his stiff stance to lax and his features to soften.

“Yes… fuck yes, that’s exactly it. I don’t mind being the pitcher, I really don’t but… Everyone always wants something from me, Steve. My attention, my love, my sex. And that’s all well and good. It’s… I know I should be grateful, I know that I shouldn’t knock on the very people who give a shit about me, but…” His head tilted forward, pressing against his abdomen with a defeated sigh. “I’m just so… So tired of keeping up a charade, ya know? Pretending I don’t like fellas at all, none the less my best fucking friend.” He smiled weakly before mumbling, “Keeping everything under control. Taking care of the only sorry bastards I got left in my life, Uncle Sam beating down my door to try and drag me into a war that we were promised would never happen again… For once, I just want someone else to handle it all… For once I just… I just…”

“Don’t want to be in control.” Bucky whimpered into his flesh.

“And I know that’s a cowardly thing to say, I know. I know… But, dammit Steve, I-”

“I get my ass beat by enough cowards to know the difference between a chicken and a man, Buck. Trust me when I say that you’re by no means a fucking coward, you hear me? I wasn’t bein’ fair back there, I know.” A mumble. “Oi, you hear me?”

“Yeah, Steve… I hear ya.”

There was a beat, and then two, until both of Steve’s hands wound in the soft crop of Bucky’s hair with a sharp tug that forced him to meet his eyes once again. The brunette allowed a soft hiss to pass his lips as they parted invitingly, the man’s tongue trailing over his mouth to wet the outline, quiet and waiting for the blonde’s words that followed soon after.

“Look… Seeing as though we’re both new to this… It’ll be a learning experience for us both, yes? Maybe... If you like it, for tonight… Or however long you’d like for this to go… I’ll be glad to take control.” The broader man’s mouth drew slack before a small whine resounded at the back of his throat. “But I’ll need your word that you’ll play along –that you’ll do exactly what I say, when I say.” Then, a little cautiously, he uttered, “Got it?” His response was startling.

“Yes… Fuck yes, Steve. Please.” Bucky’s head forced against Steve’s hold as he tried to nod, which tightened fractionally to show his disapproval at the motion. James stilled immediately before rasping out a firm, “Yes.” A thrill struck them both before Steve found himself steeling, urging James closer to his abandoned quest.

“Well, you were so eager to show me before. Go ahead – I’ll see what you know, and I’ll tell you how to improve.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide before nearly clawing down the rough fabric of his boxers, exposing his sizable prick to the warm air of the bedroom. If either of them felt inconvenienced by the temperature they never paid mind to it, the brunette’s stare fixated on the throbbing sex before him. After spitting into his dominant palm firm hands clasped about him, the slicked one on his prick while the other cupped at his balls with a faint squeeze. The pressure of foreign hands upon his dick made Steve release a tightened groan, his gaze flickering shut as the first stroke was cast.

During their discussion his cock had flagged some, though never resigned from interest. While he wasn’t the largest either of them had ever witnessed he was quite large, given his stature and build, making it appear to be far larger than it actually was. Bucky wasn’t entirely sure what he had expected when he pulled down Steve’s trousers, but the elation found there was enough to split a smile and both of their lips. Rocking slightly through the coil of Bucky’s digits he hummed, admiring how he loosened near the base and tightened at the tip. A hot stripe was lapped against the underside of his member, trailing the veins there, before his lips parted properly at the tip to suckle at the blunt head.

“Unlock your jaw, Buck. I can fucking feel your teeth.”

Catching himself he widened it obediently, to which Steve took full advantage of a story he remembered Bucky having told him when they were younger.

“You said that you didn’t have a gag reflex, right?” He was answered with a nod before tipping the man’s head back a degree or two, chuckling quietly as he used his free hand to smack at his lips with his cock. Bucky breathed a hot, breathy moan against him, to which he simply ordered, “ Take a deep breath.”

The first solid thrust into the man’s mouth was electrifying, the coil of his throat spasming around his length as it tried to draw accustomed to his intrusion. Bucky’s hands fanned out against Steve’s thighs for leverage, eyes watering and fluttering as he peered up to him with a newfound adoration. It took a while to find a proper rhythm, Steve proactively thinking of when Bucky needed to breath and forgetting a number of times to his lust as his hips snapped against the other’s face. The brunette was sure to push him off in a choking bid for air when needed, but all but devoured his cock the moment the ache for air subsided.

He wasn’t exactly sure when it had started, but what had once been a mumble had turned into full blown acts of sin, forcing Bucky’s mouth down and around him as he rutted against his mouth with a wet sputter. “That’s it, baby doll. Take my dick like a good little cock whore, eh? ‘S like you were made for it, Buck. Made to suck my cock.” He withdrew completely if only to slap the man’s cheek, watching it twist to the side before the blonde caught him by the chin to force him to meet his eye. The brunette looked up to him in dazed wonderment and he struck him again. This time he heard the moan, clipped and tapering off with a whimper, and he felt himself throb.

“Who’s my good little cock slut, James? Answer me.”

“I am...”

“Louder.”

“I am!” His gaze held no shame and neither did Steve, and soon he was back to fucking his face with a vicious abandon. Bucky listened to his every command and order, swallowing every time Steve penetrated his throat and sucked every time he drew out. His jaw was aching as he drew balls deep and saliva drooled down his jaw but he absolutely loved it, wondered if Steve got off on getting him so debauched or if it was simply hisown thought as he watched the Dominant’s face screw in bliss. His sudden need to impress the man drew to his visceral thought as he moaned around him.

“Fuck, baby doll. I’m gonna fucking come, Buck. Gonna come all over that pretty face, gonna claim it as myown now. You’ll look so damn pretty painted with seed, Buck, Christ…” He withdrew suddenly, a hand flying to his cock as he began the task of working himself off in those final moments, his movements a wet slap over his prick as the larger man parted his lips instinctively, as if he were a starving man waiting for his fill. Steve laughed breathlessly.

“Want my come, don’t you Buck? Want it, need it? Come on Bucky, beg.”

“Please…” came the rasped response, eyes upturned to Steve in licentious want. “Please, Steve, I need it. Need it so fucking bad. Please, Sir, pl-“

And that’s when the blonde finally tipped over the edge, his vision whitening for a moment as he thrusted through his fingers. The heat pooled at his abdomen released in a violent shutter, leaving Steve to stutter in his bliss. With a muffled shout hot ropes of ivory splattered across Bucky’s features, Steve’s hand a frantic tug over himself as he milked his come from the plains of his core. The man on his knees greedily swallowed what happened to grace his tongue before lapping at that in which smeared against his lips. When the slighter man drew from his lethargic haze his gaze traversed to Bucky, who looked just as pleased as he did. Something nagged from his thought as his hand slid from the man’s hair to his face, smearing his pleasure over his features before allowing the brunette to lick his digits clean.

“Sir?” Bucky looked down in mild embarrassment, itching shyly at his shoulder.

“I… Sorry, that didn’t mean to come out…”

“No, I liked it. It… it fit.” Taking a moment to catch his breath he glanced down to his softening prick before looking over James with a predatory purr.

“I do believe you deserve a treat for that.”

Oh, and treat it was.

-

As the months passed things gradually slipped into place, the kinks in their dichotomy fleshing out until they worked as one – both in and out from the bedroom.

When they finally moved to anal they both figured out rather quickly that Vaseline was a disaster, to which Steve hadn’t heard the end of for days. Thus, like the Greeks, oil turned out to be their newest companion. Colors were their main gauge of comfort over a safe word, green for go, yellow for the need of a slowing pace, and red to halt all together. They had even come up with a short list for the dynamics in the bedroom, which transcended subtly in their hidden affairs in public. As their relationship flourished, so did their trusts.

It was in that similar mindset that their scenes turned bolder, harsher, their embarrassments diffusing beneath the tendrils of their knitted trusts as they allowed darker fantasies to take root as a spoken offer. For a while they were nothing but words, simple amalgamations of dreams or ideas to be tried without any action put forth. But soon they turned into the constant chatter in the haze of post-coital bliss, Bucky mumbling his twisted desires against the curve of Steve’s shoulder as he coiled at his side, exchanging body heat in the frigidity of their apartment.

This particular night, baby blues turned to the ceiling, Steve finally made his decision.

“Let’s do it then.”

Bucky, whose breath had been evening towards sleep, stilled, nothing exchanging between them for a minute or two as they both weighed the prospect of Steve’s words. Then, finally, “Do you… Are you serious?”

“Well, I sure as hell didn’t pull it outta my ass.”

“Steve.”

The blonde turned over in James’ arms, the brunette easing his hold to allow the action before they were suddenly face to face, skeletal digits pressing between them as he motioned his touch to cup the square of his jaw. Wide eyes met narrowed as he nosed against Bucky’s bicep. “We’ve been talking about this for months now… It’s about time we shit or get off the pot, Buck. We both want to do it. We can both scrap together and plan it.” He allowed himself a small smile, leaning forward to kiss the corners of his mouth before humming out a faint chuckle. “That is to say, if you don’t want to…”

“No.” The hand upon his hip shifted to his wrist, trembling as a breathy sigh fell from his lips. Steve blinked before sitting up a ways, nodding before Bucky caught him and tugged him back to recline. “No, I mean… Damn it Stevie, I want it. I… I want to try it, I really do.” The tension in the blonde’s brow eased as he shifted upon the rough cotton sheets.

“Oh. Good.” There was a slight pause before Steve tilted his head against the crook of Bucky’s elbow. “What did you have in mind?”

-

The scene was set for a week later; each individual aspect was analyzed and scripted enough if only for effect, allowing the pair to blur the lines of reality and fantasy in a managed light. They both refrained from sex during those lingering days, building anticipation in their empty beds as the date drew near. There was only one thing left to uncertainty.

“There’s no way in ** _hell_** you’re gonna be bottoming Friday.”

Steve sighed tightly as he stared the man from the corner of his eye.

“Besides, I thought you liked topping! Since when did you have the inclination for taking it up the a-”

“Are you gonna keep bitching about it, Buck?”

“I wanted to be the one who… You know…”

“Bucky I’m not changing up the situation. No need to get your knickers in a twist.” He clapped the chalk dust from his hands as he stood, reaching for one of the dirtied art rags to rub off the excess before turning the easel to face the submissive. His own pensive expression mirrored that on the pad, causing the brunette to puff out his breath with equal irritation.

“But… I’ve really been looking forward to this, and-“

“You think I’m trying to take this away from you?”

“Feels like it.”

Steve turned at that, a soft expression on his face as he shook his head. Treading close he gently took Bucky’s chin before forcing him to meet his eye, even if he refused to stare at him in the face. He pressed his lips against the man’s temple which earned him a disgruntled sound to bubble from the man below.

“Look, Buck… I haven’t always been in the mood when fellas got me on my back. I know what it’s like to be roughed up in bed, alright?” That finally spurred the man into action, eyes dark and jaw clenched as he parted his mouth to speak. Steve, in turn, narrowed his gaze and, begrudgingly, the broader man remained quiet. “Good boy. Anyways, as I was saying, I know what kind of shit it is to go through blind. I’d rather get hurt a bit in turn for learning than to ruin your first time for this sort of thing. This way we both learn each other’s limits, and you can expect how to act or how to respond if it’s getting to be too much. I just want to iron out as much as we can before we do the real real thing –because I know that you won’t want to stop because you don’t want to disappoint me. I’m just gonna guide you through a bit. Do you understand.”

Bucky grunted, looking down and away before nodding. “Yes, Sir.”

“You know better than that. Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Bucky’s dark gaze flitted to meet Steve’s stare. A breath length passed and he found himself nudging his cheek against the touch upon his face.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I understand.”

-

Bucky was gone by the time morning dawned and no matter where he looked he couldn’t find a note explaining where he had trailed off to. Steve frowned at the fact but, faced with little other options to go forward with, tidied himself for the day.

The day played through with tension; Bucky broke tradition and didn’t meet up for a quick drink of Coke on the corner block of fifth at his noon rounds, nor did he see him working on the side boarding of the Mercantile as he had been assigned to do that week. When he asked Flannigan where the brunette was he looked him over in puzzlement and responded dully with, “Phoned in sick. He didn’t tell you?”

When his delivery route came to a close he walked the extensive trek home alone, feeling oddly exposed without James at his side to keep him company. He ducked his head below the collar of his coat as a cutting breeze slid by, shivering slightly as he made due to walk on the cusp of the shadows to cherish the last few strokes of the day before starting down his block.

Six passed at the speed of light, as did the following three hours, all of which Steve had been perched upon the worn couch, knees pulled to his chest as his frigid fingers clutched at the cooling cup of tea. He had prepped himself in the event of his arrival, but the darker it became, the more futile the attempt seemed to be. As each minute flew away at the swiftness of a second he rolled over scenario after tragedy in his mind. Was Bucky upset with him still? Truly hated the temporary shift? Or had something gone wrong? Was he in danger? Was he somewhere out there hurt while he was tucked away in the apartment like one of those wayward wives? Was he… He…

A short time after finishing his drink he had fallen asleep, body coiled like a defensive animal twisted in the sheets, only to be roused immediately from slumber by a slamming door and heavy footsteps stomping against the loose planks of the floor. His gaze snapped open, the beat of his heart sky rocketing as he tried to catch his bearings. In a similar moment a dark figure loomed in the foyer, dropping his things with a clatter of broken glass. By the time his head snapped to the origin of the noise the shadow was nearly upon him, a heavy hand jolting forward to fist at the collar of his shirt to hoist him from the furniture.

“There you are, you fucking bastard.”

Steve’s eyes blew wide as Bucky’s slurred speech pilfered his senses, the stench of alcohol wreaking from his clothes and breath as he scrambled to his feet. His touch was a force against James’ chest as he battled to get some level distance between them, the endeavor proving useless as he slithered to his back, a barrel arm crossing his waist and hoisting him above the floor. With a yelp Steve fought ever harder, hissing out a curse as he tried to fight the lethargy from his bones.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, B-”

“You know very well what I’m doing Steve, and you’re gonna shut up and take it like a man without fucking **_bitching_** about it.” Came the harsh reply, a hissing growl splitting between his teeth before that same mouth trailed down the plain of his throat, suckling a dark bite into his pale flesh. An involuntary moan bleated past Steve's lips before he caught a thick snicker at the low of his nape.

“You’re drunk –get the fuck off of me, Buck. I ain’t -“

“I thought I told you to fucking shut **up**.” Before he could spit his reply a hand clapped over his mouth, harsh and muffling as he began to drag him from the room and down the hall. Steve’s hands clawed at the walls for a bid for a leverage he could not receive, attempting to wriggle from the brunette’s grasp if only to have him tighten his iron force about him.

All but falling through the open door of the bedroom Bucky callously dropped him to his feet, the blonde losing his balance with a hiss as he spread out his hands to keep him from face planting into the nearest wall. He heard the faint click of metal and the rustle of fabric behind him as he fought to even his breath, his pulse pounding in his ears as the other wound his fingers within his locks, forcing his head back enough to stare straight up into the shadowed visage of the man’s features. “Turn around.” Steve steeled his lineaments in defiance, narrowing his gaze before James’ hand became a harsh tug upon his hair, craning down until he drew close to his lover and spat. As Steve recoiled in disgust Bucky’s free hand smeared the saliva over his face, a threatening laugh reverberating in his chest as he shook violently at the fist in his hair. “I said turn around, you filthy little cock sucker.”

Steve remained planted for a moment, two, and then finally signaled his defeat as he shifted his stance to the man’s desired position.

He had seen Bucky’s cock enough these last few months not to be surprised with the sight set before him, yet as it was slapped against his cheek he was reminded of its impressive size and dread spread through his system like a fire to caught tinder. Before he could think too deeply he was suddenly choking on it, sputtering harshly about him as he pushed against his thighs in a bid for distance. He wasn’t granted any such mercy, and soon the man was fucking his throat as if he’d been the one doing it for months. In defiance Steve threatened his teeth, to which he was forcibly thrown back to slam against the wall, his gaze turning double as he felt harsh hands upon him.

“You want to fucking bite me, Steve? You’re gonna pay for that.”

He was mildly aware that he was being hoisted to his feet and towards the bed, the grip so hard upon him he was sure to leave bruises in his wake. It wasn’t until he was bent over the edge of the mattress, head forced into the duvet and a solid hold straining at his nape, that he realized his trousers and undergarments were being tugged around his ankles if only to pool there. It was then that he began to realize the severity of the moment, flailing against the bed as he felt a harsh strike against his arse. He cried out in a mixture of fury and pain, attempting to wriggle from his grasp if only to be dragged back with a snarl of frustration. He heard a tsk behind him as he felt the moistened flesh of Bucky’s cock nestle between his cheeks, could swear he could feel it throb, and he twisted his head.

“Get the hell off of me, Buck. I don’t want this –just get off, okay? We’ll do it your way. I’ll be the one forcing you on your back, I changed my-“

“Oh no, you don’t get to fucking choose tonight, Steve. You wanted me to fuck you, and you’re gonna fucking get it.” As he leant over his back he could feel every firm coil of his muscle pressed against him, and he bit a sharp mark against the curve of his shoulder before pausing, nipping a small bite against the flesh behind his ear.

“Color?”

“Green.”

And just like that the roles became them once more, a harsh hand coming down upon the slighter man’s shoulder blades to keep him pinned, toying with him like a jeering cat playing God over its prey. He cocked his head before grunting, his free hand slipped to the base of his cock, leading their bodies to align before pressing the head of his member against Steve’s slicked hole. “Buck, please. I’m begging you. Please, don’t do this, do-“ His scream was muffled by the pillow James forced below his head, his hips bracing forward and his length bottoming out in a single thrust. The intrusion caused his muscles to seize around him and the constriction only brought Bucky to withdraw, slamming in moments later with a withering shout from Steve.

The faster their bodies collided the harsher Steve tried to break himself free, tears streaking down his cheeks in a mindful betrayal before Bucky’s rut turned brasher, paralyzing him for a brief moment as the core of nerves were nudged within him. He bleated mindlessly and Bucky granted him a pause, removing his hand to adjust his position to angle himself correctly. It was there that Steve made a bid for escape, gaining only inches of freedom before he was dragged back by his hair. “Oh what, my cock doesn’t please you, huh? You too fucking good for me now, Rogers? Is that it?”

His hands flung to the hold on his hair and he attempted to force its clamp away, only for Bucky’s free arm to loop through hisown to press his forearm against his throat. Panic struck him as a faint clicking noise was all he was able to produce as protest, his digits moving then to try and pry his arm off for air. His gaze started to lilt as he felt himself being forced up, Bucky’s cock still nestled within his core as he held him in his cuckhold. He then began to fuck into him, splitting him wide as Steve finally relented to the situation, his hands dropping to his side as his vision began to haze at the edges.

“That’a boy.”

The hands upon him pushed him violently forward, the force of it causing his body to slightly spring from the bed before resting there again as he coughed for a bid for air. The brunette’s touch trailed to his hips, manhandling him further onto the bed until he was kowtowed into the position of presentation, ass perched high as his head remained in the sheets. His body felt heavy-limbed and drained from the fight, his natural energy spent in his struggle and the fall out of his mistake.

“That’s it? My, my, Steve Rogers, I expected more out of you.” The intrusion of his length made coherent thought impossible, especially as the blunt head of his cock nudged against his prostate. His own dick hung heavy and full between his thighs, leaking against the sheets below as he drew sickened at the reaction of his body and at the snap of their unison.

“Fuck you.” Came his feeble reply, which only spurned for further taunts.

“Actually, doll face, that’s **my** job tonight.”

And that he did. Steve couldn’t number the different positions he had contorted him into, the filth in which he had spewed or the strikes and bruises that were sure to form once dawn approached. He could feel the sting of his most recent strike, harshened by a wet palm as he smeared his spit against his face with a jeering laugh. He felt the precise moment in which the other was drawing close, could feel it in the assault of his body as he punched into his fucked-open hole and in the pitch of his breath. The sickening pool of arousal turned hot in hisown abdomen as the muscles there contracted.

With a final snap of his hips Bucky growled out a hissing grunt, sinking his teeth into the purchase of his shoulder as he drew balls deep. Steve could feel as his white hot come flooded his insides, rasping out a broken cry as Bucky’s body collapsed in its full weight upon hisown. The blonde twitched at every small shift of his hips, whimpering against the sheets as Bucky released one final sigh of relief, having milked himself dry within his core.

There were several minutes where they said nothing, rolling onto their sides as they allowed their bodies to calm, the brunette slipping from the other as they both released a hiss of post-coital bliss. “St-… Steve? Here, come on, let me get you-“ The hand upon his waist flitted to his front, where the blonde’s trembling fingers caught his wrist. He grunted against his forearm, struggling to form coherent words before shaking his head.

“Did… already did…”

“I… You’re kidding. “

“M’not pullin’ your tail, Buck.”

And truth be told he wasn’t. The evidence was smeared upon the sheets where he had been laying only moments prior, and Bucky blinked in wonderment, storing such information for later use. He wondered idly if, worked up enough, he could duplicate his results, and he now knew it to be his goal to do so. If he could make Steve feel as proud as he felt in that moment, he’d do everything in his damn power to do so.

After cleaning up the bedding and showering the two laid in back down together, naked still as they nestled within the cocoon of their cotton sheets. They had resumed their usual position of Bucky nestled within Steve’s hold, his arched back cradled against his front as they both lingered on the cusp of sleep. It was only then, in the hush of the room, that the blonde finally spoke.

“You did fantastically, Buck. That was smart, dousing yourself in cheap liquor. Scared the shit outta me when you didn’t leave a note though” James mumbled his apologies, to which Steve quietly quelled. “Hush, now. We’ll talk about it more in the morning, alright? Map our next one for next week. How does that sound?”

“Mn… Fantastic… Now shut up and let me go to sleep.” Steve chuckled in the crook of his neck.

“Oi, watch your mouth.“

A beat, a hum, and then.

“Yes, Sir.”


End file.
